


A Lesson in Good Manners

by thetransgirlwhoneverwas



Series: Fictober 2019 [8]
Category: Bernice Summerfield (Books & Audio), Doctor Who & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, not really graphic but tw anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 21:30:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20955209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thetransgirlwhoneverwas/pseuds/thetransgirlwhoneverwas
Summary: Braxiatel historically has never taken kindly to being played, as Avril Fenman finds out.





	A Lesson in Good Manners

What was left of Avril Fenman stood suspended in...wherever she was. She couldn’t tell. It seemed to be nowhere, yet felt oddly familiar. Nothing to indicate any surroundings: nothing but void around her. Nothing even holding her, yet still she couldn’t move. Not that there seemed to be anywhere to move to.

“Do you know what it’s like, Fenman?”

A voice rang from the darkness, coming from all around her, and yet also within her. She didn’t respond.

“I said.”

Pain shot through her entire being, and she squeezed shut the eyes she shouldn’t have, but made no sound.

“Do you know what it’s like?”

“What?” she spat defiantly at the endless nothing.

“To be afraid.”

Behind her. The voice was definitely behind her now, but still somehow all around. But now she could recognise it. That man. Braxiatel.

“I’m not afraid,” she responded, even more scorn in her voice now. “I make people afraid.”

“Well, I’ve always considered myself something of a teacher.”

As he spoke, pain surged through Fenman again, though again she did not make a sound.

“You’re nothing!” she snarled. “I overcame your mind with ease, and I’ll do it again.”

“Manners, Avril, manners,” he responded, unconcerned. “You underestimate how much stronger my mind is now than it was when first we met.”

“I have no form,” Fenman attempted to taunt him. “I’m a presence. I’m in your mind. I’m always in your mind.”

“Oh, I agree,” Braxiatel stepped in front of her now, walking on nothing and wearing that suit he always wore. “And the tiny part of you left over after Peter killed you had nowhere to go until I gave it somewhere.”

Fenman suddenly realised that she didn’t know whose body she was in. She looked down to try to see herself, but saw nothing. There was nothing there, no form, no body. She saw nothing. But she felt herself existing somehow.

“I don’t have a body,” she continued, less sure of herself now. “You can’t touch me.”

“Oh, Avril, Avril, Avril,” Braxiatel tutted at her, barely paying attention. “How naïve you are. Do you honestly think I need to touch you to hurt you?”

As he said this, pain, more intense than before, more intense than when she was shot, more than she had ever felt before, screamed through her entire being, and though she tried as hard as she could, she could not stop herself from whimpering.

“Ah, that’s what I wanted,” Braxiatel mocked, walking towards her, closer towards her, too close towards her. “To hear it.”

“What do you want?” Fenman asked, all the posture and pride gone.

“Where do you think you are, Avril?”

“What do you want?!” Fenman begged, voice quivering with fear.

“Answer the question!”

More pain, even more than before. Fenman yelped and wanted to fall down to her knees, but whatever was left of her still couldn’t move. “I don’t know!”

“Then I shall tell you,” he leaned towards her until all she could see was his eyes, those deep eyes filled with madness and terrible sights. His voice dropped to a whisper.

“You’re in my mind, Avril Fenman. You are powerless here.”

He stepped away.

“What do you want from me?” she pleaded again. She could feel something running down a cheek that shouldn’t exist. A tear that couldn’t be real. But she could feel it. She could feel everything. “What do you want, please!”

“Ah, finally, some manners. Nice to know I can still teach when I must.”

“Tell me what you want!” she begged.

“Did you think I would simply let it slide?” Braxiatel demanded, turning to her again. “Manipulating me? Bernice? Peter? Jack? Ruth?”

The pain came again, and didn’t stop. It only intensified. Fenman distantly heard someone screaming.

“When you died to Peter Summerfield, the tiny amount of your mind left should have died, but I took it into my own mind,” Braxiatel continued explaining, every word leaving his mouth another bolt of pain through Avril’s very being. “To show you exactly what happens when you mistreat the people I care about.”

“Who are you?!” Avril realised the screaming was coming from her own mouth. A mouth that wasn’t there, but could not stop screaming. “What are you?!”

“I am Irving Braxiatel,” her captor responded. “I may not be the Braxiatel the universe remembers, but I’m still capable of being frightfully horrible to people who try to hurt my friends.”

Braxiatel turned and walked into the darkness, slowly fading from sight.

“Enjoy your lesson, Avril,” came his voice from the darkness. “Remember it for as long as you can. I’ll be interested to learn how long that is.”

And then he was gone, and there was nobody left to hear Avril Fenman scream.


End file.
